The More Things Change
by Alpacca Joe
Summary: A warm moment between old friends proves that some things never change. Post IICY?


**The More Things Change**

7/27/10

"So how're things going with you two?"

Daria smiled and adjusted the blanket draped over her shoulder. She looked tired, but contented; the lines around her eyes added character rather than age.

"You know how it is. Early mornings, late nights- one of the perils of marrying a research scientist."

Jane chased the face of the two-year-old boy she was looking after with a baby wipe, meaning to clean pureed pears from around his mouth. Finally she succeeded by pulling a second wipe from the container and executed a pincer attack on the unsuspecting toddler. He pouted tolerantly, liberated the spoon Jane had abandoned and proceed to beat everything in sight.

"What's he working on that keeps him at the lab so long?"

Daria had removed the blanket and was in the process of buttoning up her shirt one-handed. The ten-month baby girl cradled in her other arm was making this task none too easy, busy as she was trying to shove a fistful of Daria's mid-length auburn hair into her mouth.

"Sickle Cell Leukemia. They think they might have found a protein that can bond with the affected cells and act like an extension to substitute the missing matter. They're still waiting for results from their specimens, though."

"What if it doesn't work?"

Daria's eyebrows rose as she shifted the baby in her arms, sat her up on one jean-clad leg and began to rub the girl's back.

"What if it does? Like Rick is always saying, figuring out what doesn't work is just as important as finding what does. All science is just process of elimination, anyway. And if it does work, that's a couple million people who can finally wake up in the morning and not wonder if today's sun is the last they'll ever see."

Jane was silent for a long moment, eyes dark and unreadable as she held the dark-haired boy's pilfered nose out of his reach. She seemed lost in her mind's turbulent tide and jumped when Daria's soft voice cut through her reverie. Taking advantage of the distraction, the toddler grabbed Jane's wrist and attempted to wrest his stolen appendage from the larger hand.

"What about you?" Jane stared, nonplussed. Her wide eyes and slack jaw lent a comical air to the afternoon, the small boy hanging from the neck of her WWE tee shirt and batting at her nose an endearing accompaniment. "Things still going strong between you and your Devil May Care lovuh?"

The taller woman laughed and distracted the energetic monkey hanging from her shirt with a stick of Extra gum, thankfully sugarless. Daria frowned her disapproval, but said nothing; Jane would do as she would, and it wasn't like the boy really had any teeth to lose, anyway.

"As much as I would like to scorch your ears with tales of our hot monkey lovin', its training season and we haven't been seeing much of each other lately." With a small grunt, Jane shifted her kneeling position on the blanket she had spread over the carpet. Her denim-sheathed ass plopped gracefully onto Fozzy Bear's smiling face and she stretched long legs with a grateful sigh. "He spends almost every spare moment at the track, trying to break the thirteen second barrier."

Daria affected a thoughtful silence as she wiped her daughter's mouth clean of regurgitated milk and tried to put herself in Jane's place. It was hard, she knew, very hard for Jane to fall in love with someone and then only get to see him between races. Even following Mark on tour, it was only after an exhausting day on the track that the couple managed to steal a moment together- and usually Mark was too tired to even speak.

"Is he still in L.A.?"

"Yep." The gum having lost its flavor, Jane's ward had crawled into her lap, plugged his thumb into his mouth and reclined against her abdomen. His eyes fluttered with the effort to remain awake, but after a minute or so his bright blue eyes closed and did not reopen. Jane smiled down at the boy and carefully laid him across her legs and covered him with a small blanket. "He sent me a picture this morning. Here, let me pull it up."

Jane pulled her iPhone out of her back pocket, fiddled with it a moment then tossed it to Daria. A smile lit up the tired woman's face at the sight of Mark Matthews astride his bike, the number 27 visible up near the handlebars. His tall, lean form was sheathed in racing leathers covered in bright sponsor logos. He beamed at the camera, long dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, sky blue eyes bright as he held up a piece of note paper which read 'Love you, kitten!' in his neat, looping handwriting. Empty spectator seats were visible in the background and the sun was a bright golden glow over everything.

The phone was returned and Jane smiled down at the photo on its screen for a while. Daria shifted her daughter in her arms and, seeing that the girl had fallen asleep, laid her in the bassinet beside the couch, rocking it gently for a moment as the baby stirred.

"Shh, Maya," Daria whispered as the girl subsided. "Sleep for mommy."

In the warm silence that rose up in the house with the children blessedly asleep, Daria leaned back against the couch and sighed. She didn't know how Quinn did it, with three kids, another on the way and a very successful cosmetics business all at once. Daria barely survived her two children, add her job as a copy editor at a small independent publisher, she was nearly undone.

Jane swept her finger across the screen of her phone, flipping through photos with a contented smile on her full lips. Daria felt a rush of affection at the sight. Jane had taken vacation from her job as a graphic designer for a video and computer game company just to come spend some time with Daria, who was feeling abandoned due to her husband's long hours. Though, she hadn't had to twist Jane's arm much with Mark out of state, Jane wasn't doing much these days save sulking and eating too much junk food. It was agreeing with the tall, lanky woman's figure, Daria had to admit; while always of a thin, slight build in the past, Jane now had curves as well as muscle. She could no longer complain to Daria about 'booty envy.'

"When's your vacation over?" Daria blinked, brought out of her warm reverie by the unexpected question.

"Mm." Daria counted back, which was hard due to lack of sleep. Finally she managed to kick her brain into gear, though she cheated a bit- there was a calendar tacked to the far wall. "Eight more days. Why, do you have to go back early?" Her stomach tightened uncomfortably at the thought, and she chided herself for acting like a child. Maya stirred again, and Daria rocked her in an absent gesture.

It took a moment for Jane to answer." Nah, still got a week and change before I go back. But I want to drop in on Mark in L.A. for a few days, maybe this weekend. You and the midgets should come with, I can comp your tickets."

"I don't know." Despite her practical nature, she was already compiling a mental list of everything she and the kids would need for the trip.

Jane chuckled and shifted the sleeping child in her lap. His thumb had fallen to her thigh, and a small puddle of drool dampened the denim under his little face. Jane ran a hand through his silky hair, expression tender.

"It figures, huh?" She held her phone in her left hand, the right resting on the child's side. Daria raised an eyebrow, then blinked as her tired eyes again lodged a complaint against the contacts pressed against their surface. Jane elaborated her statement as Daria fished for her contact case and made to switch the lenses for her glasses. "That we'd end up falling for brothers."

Daria laughed, though there wasn't much humor in it. Yes, they had fallen for brothers-though not the ones they had each wanted at the time. Daria had dated Mark for a month, and Jane, Rick just shy of two weeks. It took some talking, then some more, then a few beers and a few more tequila shots but the four of them got everything sorted out to everyone's satisfaction. Daria and Jane were grateful the thing had been resolved without ugliness; the lessons of their youth had been hard learned.

"It figures that my son would end up looking more like _your_ guy than mine." Daria tossed her sleeping progeny a glance, though a fond one. "I mean, look at him. Richie looks just like Mark! The only thing of me he has is his pizza addiction."

Jane grinned. "Well, maybe me and Mark could take him off your hands. If we end up with brown eyed, auburn-haired kids we could always trade."

"Rick doesn't have au-" Daria started rolling her eyes-then paused. She slipped her glasses up her nose and gave Jane a long, measuring stare. Her eyebrows rose ever so slightly, and Jane's grin widened.

"How about L.A. this weekend, sister-in-law?" She held up her phone, another photo on its screen. Mark was still astride his bike, holding a sheet of paper up to the camera-only this one held a different message: 'Marry me, Jane?' A ring set with a large blue diamond was held up in his other hand.

Daria's smile spread slowly over her lips. It was, in her humble opinion, about damn time.

"It's a date."

**End**.


End file.
